Courtroom Drama
by numby hi
Summary: Hermione is asked to aid Pansy Parkinson in the persecution of Draco Malfoy, following a mysterious death at St Mungo's Hospital. As Hermione pursues the case, however, she soon discovers Draco is not the arrogant pureblood he once was. Pain changes people, and she's determined to discover the truth about her old enemy, Malfoy. - Dramione - Draco/Hermione - Rated M for language
1. Chapter 1

****Hey everyone! I'm back to writing, so please, please, PLEASE R&amp;R – it means a lot. Of course, all credit for this story goes to JK Rowling, the legend she is. Enjoy!****

The soles of my pointed shoes clapped against the cool, dark floor. Small circles of yellow light, reflecting the floating candles above, scattered the tiles at regular intervals. As my shoe obscured one of the reflections, breaking the pattern, I gripped the thick case file closer to my chest. I continued to march purposefully towards the courtroom, repeating the mantra that had been incessantly echoing in my tightly coiled brain for the past two weeks.

_You're going to be fine. Relax. _

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, remembering why I was doing this. The oxygen flowed in and out, bringing a calming sensation I associated with sleep. The memory came with ease.

_No less than a fortnight ago, a client had approached me in my large, clinical Ministry office. The haughty woman had sat herself stiffly in the chair opposite my desk, flicked her long, black hair over her pinstriped shoulder and placed her white-dragon leather purse on my desk. _

"_Hermione." She had said, dispassionately. "How long it's been." _

"_Pansy, what a surprise!" I placed my quill back onto my desk, adjusting myself in my chair, "How are you? Have you been keeping well since the days of Hogwarts?"_

"_I've been…" She had faltered here, not quite meeting my questioning eyes, "adequate, thank you. To be frank, I am here for business purposes only, so I would appreciate if we could drop the small-talk. My parents referred me to you, having heard your prowess in the field of Magical Law, so overlooking previous disagreements, I have come to receive your services. I trust you know that Draco Malfoy and I have been dating?"_

_Her steely emerald eyes shielded her evident displeasure of the current situation, and her tight lipped smile was forced. It was clear that I was her last resort. She appeared to have aged considerably from her days as the school harlot. Deep creases permanently lined her pale forehead and her beautifully sleek hair was irrevocably in place. _

_Pansy Parkinson and Draco Malfoy were notorious in the public eye. Seen as lucky escapees from the harsher judgment cast on fellow associates with death eaters, their movements were tracked incessantly. They were the foxes in the chicken pen of the Ministry. _

"_I was aware of your relationship, yes." _

_She nodded, acknowledging my words. "I suppose I should start from after our graduation, following the Battle of Hogwarts. As you undoubtedly know, we had been dating since the third year."_

_Although I was sceptical of Malfoy's involvement in Pansy's third year crush, I nodded my understanding of their high school relationship. Pansy may have _told_ everyone they were an item in the third year, but I suspect nothing occurred between them until the fifth. _

"_Well, our relationship had continued, rather successfully, until I discovered something quite disturbing, about three weeks ago. I was walking through the Manor, looking for Draco, when I noticed a hidden switch on the mantel of the fireplace. Thinking Draco was concealing something from me, I pressed the small switch, revealing a staircase leading beneath the drawing room. As I entered room below, I was engulfed in darkness, so I lit up my wand. When the wand tip ignited, I saw Dean Thomas, from our year - you know, the muggle-born - bound and gagged in the corner of the room. He was incredibly thin and scarcely breathing. Completely taken aback and, honestly, scared, I screamed for Draco. When he saw where I was, kneeling in front of Dean, he seemed utterly furious and told me to leave. I begged him to explain but he- he slapped me and yelled for me to get out." A gleam of shame glinted in her defiant eyes, "So, I left him and Dean and went to my parent's place. The next day I saw in The Prophet that Dean had died in St Mungos, and I knew I had to tell someone. So, here I am."_

_She finished her story with a discontented sigh, folding her hands in her lap. _

_I remembered the day that Dean had died. The Daily Prophet had released a small tribute to Dean, acknowledging his contribution to the Battle of Hogwarts and discussing his mysterious death. The article had stated that Dean was admitted to St Mungos, beaten and dying of malnutrition, by an unknown wizard. He had apparated Dean into the waiting room and disapparated before anyone recognised him, maintaining an anonymous status. Everyone had assumed Dean's attack was made by a supporter of Lord Voldemort, attempting to uphold his pureblood beliefs. Dean was muggle-born, after all. _

"_I see. Well, as interesting as this information is to me, Pansy, I am unsure why you have come to me. I may work for Magical Law Enforcement but I do not personally investigate crimes, unless a client has reason to believe they have been wronged. I help cheated witches and wizards find compensation for their losses. What loss have you had? Why do you need my help?"_

_Pansy couldn't restrain her annoyance as she retorted, "Just a loss of faith, Hermione. While I want Draco to be punished for his crimes against Dean, frankly, his betrayal is my main concern and I wouldn't object to seeing him suffer. You might think I'm just a spoilt pureblood," she leaned in further over the desk between us, her hands splayed on the hard wood, "but I have real feelings too. Feelings that I _need_ to act upon. He killed a man, Hermione." Here, she regained her composure, taking a deep breath and leaning carefully back into the chair, folding her hands in her lap once again. "Evidently, with no concern for _me_."_

Before I could gather my thoughts, I had reached the doorway to the courtroom.

_You'll be fine. Relax._

One big breath, and I was through the grand wooden doors.

=]]]]][


	2. Chapter 2

****Hi guys! I'm so sorry it's taken me such an obscenely long time to update – starting senior year takes up time. I hope you enjoy this chapter, PLEASE read and review! Creds to JK.****

The doors swung open to reveal the full courtroom. Hushed voices were murmuring excitedly, a hum of noise reverberating around the benches. Griselda Marchbanks, recently instated Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, sat loftily in her raised chair on the far side of the room. The jury was perched stiffly and silently around Marchbanks, waiting for the commencement of the trial.

I walked towards Pansy, haughtily presided in her own chair of smooth mahogany on the left of Marchbanks, my gaze strictly fixed upon her insolent face. I was determined to avoid the pressing glare from Malfoy, positioned on the Chief's right, which had pursued me across the courtroom. Pansy gave a short nod as I sat down next to her. Simultaneously, we glanced towards the chair in the centre of the room, chains dangling ominously from the arms.

"Everything will be perfectly alright." I assured her.

She merely nodded again, refraining from speech.

I chanced a peek at Malfoy. He was still looking towards me, fixedly, his grey eyes glinting with emotion I had never seen there before.

Genuine fear.

I quickly turned away, his evident distress too confronting for the present.

_What had happened to his arrogance? His swagger?_

My contemplations were interrupted as Marchbanks cleared her throat.

"Members of the Wizengamot, representatives from the Ministry, those in question, and spectators, today we have gathered to determine whether the case, filed by Miss Pansy Parkinson, against Mr Draco Malfoy, will go to trial. If the plaintiff could present their case."

I rose from my seat, beckoning Pansy to accompany me to the centre of the room. She sat down uneasily onto the chair, but the chains merely clinked feebly, stirred by her touch.

"Pansy Parkinson walked into her and Mr Malfoy's shared home, five weeks ago, to uncover a truly alarming discovery. Walking through their manor home, she noticed a previously unknown switch on their fireplace mantel…"

I continued to explain the circumstance of Pansy's revelation, the well-rehearsed words flowing effortlessly from my tongue.

Throughout my testimony Draco's eyes never left my pacing figure, his piercing gaze ever-present in my peripheral vision.

It felt as though he was wordlessly pleading for me to stop, the fear emanating from him like tar, sticking to my shoes and holding me fast, regardless of my feigned ignorance.

"Thank you, Hermione. Pansy, do you confirm the events described?" Marchbanks peered inquiringly down at Pansy.

"Yes, I do."

"You confirm that Dean Thomas was found in Mr Malfoy's hidden cellar room, the night prior to Mr Thomas's death?"

"Yes."

"Do you also agree that Mr Malfoy struck you on the face upon your discovery of the room and the boy within?

"Yes, I do." Pansy's voice cracked as she uttered the words, looking down at the floor.

"Thank you Miss Parkinson that is all."

Pansy rose from the chair and I guided her back to our seats, in silence.

"Can the defendant please present their case? Mr Malfoy, I've been informed you are representing yourself, is this correct?"

Malfoy cleared his throat, "Yes."

His voice was hoarse and gravelly, like a rusty plough scraping through drought ridden fields.

He made his way towards the shackled chair, sitting tensely on the hard wood. Once again, the aged chains remained stationary.

"I plead innocent to all charges, Ms Marchbanks," Malfoy began. "The events Pans- Miss Parkinson have described are true; the hidden cellar room was being used as a holding cell for Dean Thomas, but I am not responsible for his imprisonment. Prior to Miss Parkinson's discovery of the room, I had no knowledge of its existence, and I believe that it was used for my Father's own private business. I was unaware of its location and most certainly did not know that Dean was dying mere metres beneath our feet. Believe me, I know I have made mistakes in the past, but please know I would _never_ harm Dean, especially due to our school history. Upon discovering Dean in the cellar, I must admit I was beyond shocked. I simply could not and cannot comprehend how and why he was down there. I may have even raised my voice at Pa- Miss Parkinson. However, I can firmly say, without question, that I did _not _hurt her in anyway, such as described in her testimony. I am innocent to both the alleged imprisonment of Dean Thomas, and the physical abuse of Pansy Parkinson. That is all, Ms Marchbanks."

He promptly sat back down in his chair, clenching his hands tightly into fists on his lap, knuckles as white as his ashen face.

"Thank you Mr Malfoy, you may return to your seat."

Malfoy stood again, walking swiftly over to his place on Marchbanks's right.

"The members of the Wizengamot will now confer. A decision will be made shortly."

The Wizengamot rose and processed towards the connecting chamber behind the courtroom, leaving the room in heavy silence.

"I can't see why they wouldn't further the case, Pansy. Malfoy _will _be persecuted for what he did to Dean, trust me."

Irrespective of my reassurance, Pansy's hands writhed nervously in her lap, twisting compulsively as if keeping them still would sacrifice our suit. Ten long minutes dwindled by, dragging the seconds out to inordinate lengths. I was sure we had Malfoy, but the familiar sense of gut-clenching nerves I had grown accustomed to over the years pulsated in my stomach nonetheless.

He seemed to epitomise the fear eating my insides. His face was as white as milk, with an almost grey hue bordering his sunken, silver eyes. His defined jaw was clenched tightly as he hunched over in his chair, head in his hands. He looked physically ill, weak, his thin hands trembling at the sides of his pained face, fear clouding his ashen features.

_What's eating him up? He's the one who-_

"The Wizengamot have finalised their decision. The case will go to trial. The suit against Mr Draco Malfoy will commence in fourteen days. Mr Malfoy, you may want to reconsider self-representation. See you in two weeks."

Marchbanks and the rest of the jury departed the courtroom, leaving a ringing silence.

Malfoy released a moan, momentarily exposed, before slamming his chair back into the wall, storming from the courtroom without a second glance.


End file.
